


The World's Greatest Anarchist Mind

by RobberBaroness



Category: A Study in Emerald - Neil Gaiman, The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Monster Hunters, Revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:31:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though mousekind trembles under the rule of the Old Ones, a gang of Baker Street rebels plots to end their tyrannical reign.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World's Greatest Anarchist Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [radialarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radialarch/gifts).



> Thank you to my lovely beta lowereastnowhere!

Though we have never met, I know of you. Do you know of us, I wonder?

Our numbers are presently few- myself (a medical mouse), Basil the genius, Mary Mouseton the refugee, Irene Adler Zann the singer, and her husband Erich Zann the composer. And of course, young Olivia Flaversham. What she contributes to the Baker Street Players has thus far been limited to reconnaissance, for her small stature allows her to to remain unseen where the rest of us would be spotted. If not for her name, I do not know that she would be allowed to take part in any missions; if not for her piteous tears after she escaped from her grandfather’s employers, I do not know that she would be allowed to remain with us at all.

Employers sounds so much better than abductors, does it not? But that is how our rulers work, forcing us to substitute one reality for another until we forget which is which.

Basil of Baker Street is the reason for us all. He is the world’s greatest anarchist mind (as that sniveling pawn of the Queen, Professor Ratigan, claims to be its greatest detective mind,) and it was he who found us all in turn- the discontented, the bohemians, the lost. For my part, while I had killed before in the army, it was under his auspices that I slew my first Royal. The Zann couple joined us when we posed as a theatrical troupe, while Miss Mouseton and Miss Flaversham came to us for help, and have been with our cause ever since.

The fact that innocent young ladies might need such protection, and should have to seek it out in the criminal underworld- for that is, in the end, what we are- indicts our society more thoroughly than anything I could write.

Our actions have been small, thus far, but often effective. We have saved the lives of a small handful of victims from the depredations of the Royals, and put more than one of those abominations in their graves. But Basil always thinks ahead, and when he is not in one of his silent and obsessive moods, I have the privilege of being taken into his confidence.

“Do you ever consider, doctor, what our end goals might be?”

He asked me this question only a few hours ago, as we sat within our safe house. Basil had been pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, and made a full stop when he spoke to me.

“Ending the tyranny of the Royal Families, of course”, I answered.

“By what means?”

“By any means necessary.”

Basil shook his head sadly.

“Ah, Dawson, if only it were that simple. I have spoken to you before of the Great Awakening, have I not?”

Indeed he had. It is a story every mouse knows, albeit in a distorted, propagandist form. Once, they tell us, mice were as dull as common beasts or insects. But then came the Great Old Ones, and to honor our cunning and perseverance, they granted to each and every rodent the gift of wisdom. When Basil had spoken of it in the past, it was with some amount of disdain, saying that before the so-called Awakening, no rodent as wicked as Professor Ratigan could have ever existed. The fact that none as clever as Basil could have existed either went unsaid, but understood.

“You have. It was a mixed blessing indeed.”

He looked up at the cruel red moon and sighed.

“A mixed blessing. Tell me then, Dawson- if a mouse was to reverse that blessing, would that make him a hero or a villain?”

“But surely that is impossible!”

“Perhaps. But perhaps not. I have many theories on how and why the Great Awakening was caused, but this is the foremost- I do not believe we rodents were given independent souls. No. From the loftiest mouse to the humblest bat, I believe we are all merely duplicates of the souls of humanity. The Great Old Ones do not spread knowledge or wisdom. They can merely imitate and copy it, and we their supposed beneficiaries are the same.”

The shock must have shown on my face, for he shook his head sadly.

“Ah, Dawson. I know it is hard to believe. But there is a reason our theatrical friends Irene and Erich do not use the names they were born with- they have adopted those of the humans they believe to be their counterparts to serve as aliases.”

“Basil,” I interrupted, “if you believe it, then I do not for one moment doubt you. I do not need any other assurances. But by all the blasted stars, what must the implications of this be?”

“It is that, Dawson, which concerns me. We have often thought about what it would mean to kill the Queen- whether she could be laid to rest permanently or if she would simply rise again, this time intent on punishing rather than protecting her subjects. But if by some means we were to succeed, what if the connection was severed?”

“The connection between her and her counterpart, you mean.”

“Precisely. Our Queen is a monster- neither mouse nor octopus nor dragon, but something terrible in between. It is easy enough to extrapolate that her larger counterpart is one of the Old Ones who awoke our ancestors from their bestial state.”

“If she has a counterpart, then it must be so.”

My mind was still reeling from my friend’s earlier supposition, and so when he spoke his next words I was utterly unprepared to hear them. But then, could there have been any case in which I would not have reacted to them with horror?

“I suspect,” said Basil, “that our Queen, ancient as she is, must be the main connection between our species and sentience. If we were to destroy her, we would sever the link and our own consciousnesses with it.”

I sputtered in disbelief and sorrow. To think, all our plans were for naught but the destruction of ourselves and mousekind as a society! Could the Royals only be brought down by removing our own intelligence?

“The price is too great.” I whispered at last. Basil put his paw on my shoulder and offered a gentle smile.

“I hoped you would say that, doctor. We must not give up all our hopes! I speak to you of this because the Zanns and I have been developing a new plan, one that is far more dangerous to our persons than any assassination would be. Erich and Irene have been working on music which seems to soothe savage beasts, if you will- music which may influence the minds of Royals.”

The plan, it seemed, was to hijack the Queen’s next public appearance, at which many suspected she would announce her engagement to Ratigan. (Despite his many wicked deeds, I can almost bring myself to pity him when I think on that possibility.) Miss Flaversham knew what her grandfather had been working on- a mechanical device which imitated the Queen, so that she might make such public appearances without alarming the population with the sight of her true form. If we could seize control of the speaker for the device and play the music of Erich and Irene Zann, we might be able to hold back those Royals who had chosen to attend, binding them from acts of cruelty, at least for the time being.

When he told me, Basil waited with a grave expression on his face. At last, I responded.

“I am with you as always, my friend.” It was the only answer, then and now, that I could give. “But if the world is as you say, and we ourselves have counterparts among the large folk, then there is one favor of you which I must ask. If you know where they are- and I cannot imagine it would be any trouble for the world’s greatest anarchist mind to find them- let me extend this plan to them as well.”

Basil conceded that it was not a bad idea, and sent me off to write this missive while he sought these strange people out.

If you read this, doctor- may I assume you are a doctor?- consider what my friend has said. Seek out Erich and Irene Zann, for I know humans of those names must exist. Take them into your counsel, if you have not already. Our experiment may fail, and I may be dead or worse by the time you read this. But in the name of all that is good and decent left in this world, an attempt must be made. It is our duty to attempt it with music, magic, and with all the cunning afforded to sentient beings.

Will you join us?


End file.
